


A Taxi, an Old Enemy, and Valentine's Day

by jrayoh23



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Fluff, M/M, One Shot, Short, Valentine's Day Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-24
Updated: 2015-11-24
Packaged: 2018-05-03 03:28:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5274815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jrayoh23/pseuds/jrayoh23
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry, recently dumped, is being set up by Ron and Hermione and on Valentine's day no less. Harry of course is sort of sad and needs time to think before arriving at the Valentine's dinner, so he takes a cab which he ends up sharing with Draco Malfoy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Taxi, an Old Enemy, and Valentine's Day

**Author's Note:**

> Short, sweet, and to the point. Hope you enjoy :)

Taxi’s in London were scarce, especially on holidays, especially on Valentine’s Day at seven o’clock leaving the Ministry of Magic. Especially when it was raining with such determination. Especially when Harry was running late-ish. 

Yes, Harry probably could have floo’d to Hermione and Ron’s flat to meet his mystery Valentine’ Day date, but he felt that he needed the time to think. He wasn’t exactly ready for dinner, or Ron and Hermione’s sympathy. Nor could he stand another pat on the back from Neville and Ginny who so graciously like to remind Harry how happy they were thanks to all his help. So, he waited, hood pulled up to keep the rain out, on the street corner for the next available cab.

After his most recent failed relationship, his best mate’s decided it was their life mission to fix him up with a nice bloke. Ha, bloody laughable, as if one existed. But if Harry were being honest, he didn’t want to be set up. He wanted to be alone. The relationship with Hunter Attwell had been horrid. It had been messy and very public. Hunter was the Bludger for the Chudley Cannons, and Merlin, was he a fit bloke. Harry had fallen for him almost instantly. With his pale blue eyes and blond hair. He was gorgeous and Harry was charmed to say the least, but Hunter was more interested in Harry’s celebrity. In his popularity with the Daily Prophet and the legacy of being The Chosen One. So, Harry had ended it. 

Harry shook the memory away as he saw the approaching cab. The black paint looked slick under the seemingly endless sheets of rain. Reaching for the door, he felt his hand brush against someone else’s. Smooth. Delicate. Hand. Harry wasn’t even paying attention and hadn’t seen the man standing next to him on the curb. Before he looked up to see who the man was, the man was speaking, “Share it? There aren’t many free one’s left.”

“Sure,” Harry said as he looked up into the eyes, the intensely smokey gray eyes, of his former schoolboy rival, Draco Malfoy. Harry’s heart leapt for a moment because the last time the men had actually spoken to each other was soon after the Daily Prophet had outed him last month, thanks very much Rita Seeker. Draco, of course, had been out since school, so when he found out about Harry he hadn’t said much out of curtsy maybe, since the rest of the world was bombarding him with questions he would rather not answer. 

“Oh, Potter, I didn’t realize it was you under that hood,” Draco said, his voice was simultaneously sensual and casual and Harry could never quite figure out how that could happen. 

“Oh, right,” was his response.

“Still want to share, or is that too weird?” Draco asked. Too weird? It had been seven years since school, surely they were over all that. The two worked in the same office for Merlin’s sake. They trained to be Auror’s together and here Draco was acting as if they didn’t see each other every day. 

“Course, after you,” Harry ushered Draco inside the cab and then scooting in next to him finally realizing how wet his clothes had gotten waiting. Harry watched the man fold up his umbrella and brush some water from his dark gray pea coat. The blond’s long fingers spread out over the fabric slowly and Harry found himself watching it with the same level of observation one affords to field research. Taking in every small movement, every little bend of the knuckles. At that, Harry’s heart quickened. 

Draco only looked forward, avoiding eye contact which bothered Harry. Certainly they didn’t have to act like strangers. Not when they were squished together in the back of a cab. Not when they sat three desks away from each other for the better part of a decade. 

“Where to boys?” the cabbie asked. 

“Uptown, N. Cumberland street if you could,” Harry said first. The address was a few blocks form Ron and Hermione’s flat, but he found he wanted to walk the rest of the way. Clear his head. He figured he would need it after sharing a cab with Draco, the man who apparently couldn’t be bothered to be friendly with his co-workers. The man who also occupied a decent amount of Harry’s thoughts. The man who Harry decided would never date him which is why he resorted to dating fit Quidditch players instead. Merlin, how pathetic. 

“Oh, weird, that’s me as well. Cumberland street,” Draco added and the cabbie nodded, clearly pleased he would only have to make one stop. 

After giving the address, the men sat quietly for a few blocks, getting stuck at a red light once or twice. The cabbie turned on the radio and the low hums of some muggle musician filled the car. The song was something about love and tenderness and Harry felt his heart clench at the thought. Hunter. That stupid prat and his stupid, ‘Oh, don’t act like that, Harry. It’s a compliment that I like how famous you are’ crap. Harry needed a distraction and fast, so despite Draco’s clear signal that he didn’t want to talk, Harry spoke, “So, why are you, uh, you know? Taking a cab, instead of you know…whoosh?” Harry asked and he had all the tact of a bull doing ballet as he tried to act out floo’ing with his hands. 

“Ha, uh, I could ask you the same,” Draco responded voice all casually sensual again, eyes forward, “Though I wont.”

“Right, course, sorry for trying to make conversation,” Harry found himself annoyed with Draco. After all they were sharing a cab, the least they could do was make small talk. It’s not like Harry was making a fool of himself again. Not like he had when he tried to ask Draco out for coffee a few months back. Draco hadn’t exactly got the hint that Harry was asking him on a date, seeing as hardly anyone knew he was gay. Well, at least not then anyways. 

“Oh, if it’s conversation you want, I have a better topic in mind,” Draco finally turned to face Harry. The blond’s bottom lip quirked up into a smile and Harry found that maybe he didn’t want to have a conversation anymore because that lip quirk couldn’t mean anything good.

Harry watched Draco watching him and finally spoke, “Fine, what is it, then?”

“Daily Prophet’s written about you again,” Draco handed him the folded newspaper. He looked up at Draco, eye’s sort of pleading for Draco to go easy on him. Whatever Rita bloody Seeker had to say about him this time was no doubt exaggerated, as it always was. The headline read: Chudley Cannon’s Hunter Attwell Bludger’s The Chosen One’s Heart; an Exclusive Look Inside the Relationship. 

“Oh, bloody hell,” Harry blurted out more to himself than to Draco, “Oh, that sodding prick.”

“He had some very interesting things to say about you and your…uh, interests,” Draco winked, clearly enjoying this a bit too much. Guess his incessant need to make fun of Harry was still as forceful as ever. Brilliant. This is just what he needs before arriving at Hermione and Ron’s flat to meet his next potential Daily Prophet exclusive. 

“You read it?” Harry asked incredulously. He couldn’t help but wonder if Draco thought the stuff in this article were true. The last time they had spoken was when the Prophet outed him. They were in the loo at the same time and Harry had been crying, though he wasn’t sure if Draco could tell. Draco smiled at him and all he had said then was: Tough break, but at least you didn’t get caught fifth year in the lav’s at Hogwarts by Snape. Harry never did get the blond to elaborate on that topic, but he was sure Draco had been trying to comfort him. 

“Says you like it rough in the bedroom and apparently he had to leave you because and I am quoting him here, ‘Harry was wonderful, but I had the feeling he was only with me because I am a celebrity and he was afraid to be out of the spotlight’ end of quote,” Draco said and made a face that expressed his bafflement at the entire thing. 

“What a sodding prick.”

“Yes, you’ve said.”

“Oh, that nasty ponce. I’ve half a mind to…” But Harry didn’t have an ending for that sentence. He didn’t have a clue what he would do. Denying it would only make it worse. Only made people believe it more. He learned that the hard way when the other article titled; The Boy Who Lived and The Boys He Lives With, had come out only a few months ago. At first, Harry was mortified to be outed that way, but eventually he was glad to be free of his secret. 

“If it’s any consolation, he isn’t even that attractive,” Draco offered and turned to face Harry again and sympathy was written all over his face in the way his lips were turned down in a smile-sort-of-frown-thing, the way his cheeks scrunched up leaving small lines under his almond-shaped eyes, the way his eyebrows were pinching in at the middle. 

“Thanks, but we both know he’s fit,” Harry said defeated. He wasn’t even sure he had the energy to be mad anymore. 

“Well, yes, but not that fit. I’ve seen better looking blokes,” Draco said and elbowed Harry in the ribs playfully, which was so far out of character for them it was in the next solar system out there. It almost felt like flirting. Almost. It almost felt like Draco had meant he thought Harry was a better looking bloke. Again, almost. 

“Thanks, but you don’t have to do that,” Harry said. He was sure he would get plenty of sympathy from Ron and Hermione in a matter of minutes and didn’t need any from a man who barely acknowledges his existence unless it is to discuss his frequent appearances in the headlines of the Daily Prophet. 

“Oh, shut up, Potter. Let me sympathize, yeah?” Draco said and it sounded like a command, but the blonds lips were turned up in a smile. A very gorgeous smile, Harry had to note. Damn blond’s. Harry had always had a thing for blond’s. Especially sexy blond’s with intense gray eyes and the ability to get under his skin simply by uttering one syllable; Potter. 

“Yeah, just so you know. It’s the other way round,” Harry asserted, though he wasn’t sure why he needed Draco to know he was the one who had don’t the breaking, not Hunter. But, he did need him to know, if only so Draco didn’t think he was upset over the breakup because, well okay he was a bit upset, but not heart-broken. Not really. 

“I figured. No offense to the Chudley Cannon’s or anything, brilliant team, but you are Harry bloody Potter, no one’s celebrity can outshine yours. Plus, I’ve know you for quite sometime now and you’ve never been one to pride yourself on something so vain. Now, something like saving a person’s life, yeah,” Draco said and the last bit was flirtatious. Harry was sure of it this time. 

“Why don’t you ever talk to me?” Harry blurted out, which was obviously something of a new habit. Seeing as half this conversation was Harry blurting out something that really didn’t need to be said aloud. 

“We aren’t exactly friends,” Draco shifted over on the seat, the leather squeaked beneath him as he adjusted himself so that his knees were angled toward Harry, touching his own knees slightly. Harry found himself very focused on the small touch. The spot where their knee’s met felt like it was on fire.

“Could have done, you know?” Harry said and it was halfway a whisper. Harry then shifted himself on the seat so his body was angled toward Draco, pushing their knees closer together. Sending a fire up into Harry’s chest. 

“Just seemed to hard after everything,” Draco shifted and their knees were touching more. And Harry’s breath was catching in his throat. And Draco was looking at him. Looking with those eyes, the one’s Harry had committed to memory back at Hogwarts. Back when he had told himself his obsession with Draco had been purely pragmatic and not hormonal in the least. 

Finally, Harry found his voice,“Why? You apologized, I apologized. We both accepted. We work in the same bloody office.”

“I know.”

“So? What is it then?”

“You actually want to be friends…with me?” Draco’s voice hovered between casual and sensual again and Harry felt his face flush because, of course, he wanted to be Draco’s friend. He wanted a bit more than that actually, but he couldn’t really say that, now could he? 

So Harry settled on the only safe answer, “Yeah, seven years, Malfoy. Seven years the wars been over. Isn’t it about time?”

“Suppose so.”

“Right. Good.”

The cab slowed to a halt and the cabbie told them how much the fare would be, Harry paid his half and got out. Draco stayed in and said his destination was a bit further, but he promised Harry that next week, Monday, they would work on that whole friend thing he was so keen on. 

The ran had stopped on the ride uptown, but there were still puddles everywhere. The night lamps were on and their orange glow was reflecting in the puddles. Harry found it to be relaxing, so he made sure to side step each puddle so as not to disturb the reflecting lamp light. 

After a few blocks, he found himself standing out front of Hermione and Ron’s flat. He could hear muffled laughter coming from inside and it was almost enough to make him turn away. He wasn’t sure he could be social tonight, let alone impress a date. Not after reading the Prophet article. Not after almost-sort-of-flirting with Draco Malfoy in a cab. It had put Harry into a very sour mood. So, Harry stood there, on the stoop, waiting for his hand to reach up and knock. 

Finally, he balled his hand into a fist and knocked gently. He heard footsteps coming his way and when the door pulled open he was face to face with a slightly drunk Ron, who was all smiles and who pulled Harry into a very extreme hug. 

“Harry, mate, we’ve got someone here we think you will get on with,” Ron said, leading Harry back into the dining room where he could hear Hermione, Ginny, and Neville laughing at what someone had just said. 

When they reached the room, Ron turned to Harry who was looking at who he could only assume was his mystery Valentine’s day date. 

“Malfoy?” Harry asked, confused. Had this been Draco’s destination the entire time? Harry’s first thought was: that sneaky git. His second thought was: Draco’s my date, time to panic. 

“Yes, good to see you again so soon, Potter,” Draco responded. A smile spread across his face in the most effortlessly beautiful way. Harry’s mouth hung open in surprise. Draco seemed so at ease here in Ron and Hermione’s flat which led Harry to believe this was the person Hermione had been spending so much time with outside of work. The ‘friend’ Ron said was occupying so much of his wife’s attention lately. And again, his thought settled on: that sneaky git. 

“Ron?” Harry turned to his best mate who was drunkenly smiling and blushing a bit. From the wine, or the situation, Harry hadn’t the slightest. Though he was sure his face was more pink than Ron’s and Harry’s blush couldn’t be blamed on alcohol. 

“Harry, please sit,” Hermione said, so Harry took the only empty seat which was next to Draco. 

“This is my mystery date, then?” Harry asked and the entire table nodded, save for Draco who only tilted his head in Harry’s direction. “Did you know the whole time we were in the cab?”

“Uh, yes,” Draco admitted.

“Then, why didn’t you, oh, I dunno, say anything?” Harry asked.

“Didn’t want to ruin the surprise. The look on your face was sort of priceless,” Draco said. 

“Oh?”

“Yeah.”

“Date? You and I are each other’s date.”

“Yes, that about sums it up.”

“And you like me, then?”

“Yes. You?”

“Yeah, actually for a while now.”

“Funny way of showing it.”

“Right back at you.”

“So, dinner then?” Hermione asked, interrupting Harry and Draco’s banter to serve them up what Harry decided looked like a cross between a meat pie and a mud pie. Under the table, Draco slid his hand onto Harry’s knee, sending Harry’s heart up into his throat. Valentine’s day may not be so bad after all.


End file.
